


between the stars and waves

by hobbitheichou (midnightstarlight)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, I Tried, fairy tale AU, fairytale AU, or something like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 03:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16009043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstarlight/pseuds/hobbitheichou
Summary: He is standing on the shoreline, head tipped back and admiring the Milky Way, when everything around him illuminates with a blinding flash of light and he watches as a star falls to earth and crashes in the ocean, a little too close to the shore. He is momentarily blinded by the light and forgets to make a wish.He is about to head home when a girl emerges from between the waves like a goddess clad only in a flimsy, see-through material with long dark hair framing her face and clinging to her shoulders.





	between the stars and waves

**Author's Note:**

> written for jeankasa fairy tale weekend. 
> 
> recommended listenings: 241 (my favorite song) by rivermaya and 214 by rico blanco. happy reading! tell me what you think :)

_(A summer night in heaven_  
_Between the stars and waves_  
_Gaze across the old bonfire;_  
_Trample on my heartbeat)_

He is standing on the shoreline, head tipped back and admiring the Milky Way, when everything around him illuminates with a blinding flash of light and he watches as a star falls to earth and crashes in the ocean, a little too close to the shore. He is momentarily blinded by the light and forgets to make a wish. He blinks and rubs at his eyes, his eyes watering as he does so, and when he finally opens them, everything has turned dark once more.

He is about to head home when a girl emerges from between the waves like a goddess clad only in a flimsy, see-through material with long dark hair framing her face and clinging to her shoulders. He watches, wide eyed, as she makes her way to him. His brain is telling him to _run_ but he is transfixed by her beauty, his body unmoving.

She cups his face in her hands the moment she is close enough. Her hands are cold as ice and he flinches from the contact.

_This is it,_ he thinks and closes his eyes.

He thought that she might kiss him and take his life away. Aren’t stories with ethereal beings always, always end up with a man giving up his life for a taste of her? He didn’t know if he wants to die just yet so he takes a step back and her hands fall from his face.

When he opened his eyes, he found her face closer than he had expected. He takes another step back, wanting to put as much distance between him and _her_ – this mysterious fallen star – but she follows suit and clutches at the shirt he’s wearing with her hands.

He readies himself to bolt - plants his feet firm on the uneven sand and rakes his brain for ways to push her hard enough to get away yet not too hard so as not to hurt her – when he notices the expression on her face and the frightened and distraught look in her eyes.

***

Supernatural happenings weren’t new to him, he had always been _gifted_ , so to speak. People in their little village would always come knocking on their door and ask him to look into their futures. He doesn’t read palms or use tarot cards or anything like that. He dreams instead.

But when she fell in the waters of his island home, he was utterly surprised. None of his dreams had prepared him for this, none of them had told him of a falling star. Living on his own was hard enough as it is and now he has to look after some girl who came from the cosmos.

_Thanks a lot, dreams._

But despite this, he tries his best - tries to make conversation with her, tries to figure out what she is and what she needs in the days following her arrival.

But she is silent, _always so silent_ , and does nothing but watch him with sad, lonely eyes.

***

It’s been more than a month since. And Jean has provided her with everything and yet he still knows nothing about her except that she sleeps most of the day and would tug at his shirtsleeves at night to accompany her to the shoreline to watch the night sky.

They would sit side-by-side. He’d cross his legs and lean back on his hands and she’d hug her knees to her chest and stare longingly at the stars. He’d often steal glances at her as they sit in silence and would try to figure out what’s going on in her head as a gentle breeze blows from the sea.

Sometimes, he’d see her wiping at her eyes and something inside his chest would always clench at the sight.

He hurts for her, for his silent fallen star.

***

He is awfully aware of her presence and her wide-eyed stares whenever he does the most menial of tasks at home – whether it be fixing the leaky faucet or washing the dishes or hanging up the laundry. She would always be hovering around him, taking everything in with childlike wonder. And always _always_ observing – almost as if she wants to learn but cannot express her intent to.

So, to combat this, he teaches her and shows her how to make a home. There are nights where they prepare dinner together and there are mornings where he wakes up to the smell of fried eggs and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and he thinks that maybe he could get used to this.

***

Ever since she crash-landed into his life, his psychic dreams have ceased. And for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what tomorrow would bring. He can’t decide quite yet if he likes his dreamless sleeps or not but one thing is for sure – he likes having her around despite her silence.

He would often tell her stories of his work in the fish market, or of the crazy antics of his friends, or of the beauty he sees on the ocean floor when he goes diving for mother-of-pearl. Even though she doesn’t say anything, he knows that she enjoys hearing about his day for when he had first told her stories, she smiled and laughed and urged for him to tell her more.

And he thinks that her smile is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

***

The first time he heard her speak was when he was scaling a coconut tree to harvest its fruit.

She was a few feet away from the base of tree with a wicker basket in her arms, ready to catch the coconuts as he tosses them her way. His foot had slipped as he was coming down and he heard her say _be careful_ in such a soft voice that it would have been lost to the wind if he weren’t so attuned to her so much.

He’d run to her then, with the biggest smile plastered on his face, and almost knocked her to the ground. She dropped the basket in surprise and gave out a yelp as he picked her up and swung her around. He was laughing and so was she.

She was not mute after all.

***

They fall into a routine.

She would always make breakfast, pack his lunch for work, and they would always make dinner together. He loves coming home to her and he would often give her trinkets that he thinks she’d appreciate – a hairbrush, a star-shaped hairpin, or a dainty necklace with a seastar pendant. Sometimes, he’d bring her flowers as well and she’d put them in a vase and place them on display the following day.

Lazy Sunday afternoons are his favorite. Most of the times he’d read to her from his old worn book of fairytales under the shade of the palm trees, his head nestled on her lap while she plays with his hair. Sometimes, he’d teach her how to read as she leans back into his chest, his heart against her spine, and he thinks that exchanging his dreams for her company is not quite so bad after all.

***

She still prefers to be quietly observing and she still has lots to learn. He doesn’t mind it though. He likes the silence and he likes being there for her.

On idle days, they’d sit by the shore, the waves lapping at their feet and he’d point out things to her and recite their name – _sand, sea, shore –_ and she’d repeat them to him. Sometimes, she’d point at things she hasn’t learned the name of yet and he’d gladly tell her – _sky,_ _boat, tree._

It suddenly occurred to him that he still hasn’t told her his name, despite living together for more than a year now. And so, he tells her on one sunny afternoon while they were out at sea.  

She was seated across from him and he wasn’t quite sure if she heard him for she didn’t stop leaning over the side of the boat and watching the fish swim below amongst the brightly colored reef.

He flushed, suddenly self-conscious, suddenly aware of how generic his name was, how ordinary. Maybe she didn’t like his name, maybe she thought it was lame, maybe she’d hope that his name was something cooler.

Just as he was about to will himself to turn into smoke and ask the ocean to swallow him whole – she whispers his name. The sound of it rolling off her tongue made him flush  even more and his heart hammer away in his chest.

***

Clear night skies are her favorite. He’d point out the constellations to her and would trace them with his finger as they lay under the stars. _Orion and its belt, the raging bull, the twins._ He wonders if she can recognize her fellow stars from down here, if she can see where she once was amongst the multitude of asterisms and star systems in their vast, vast universe.

He steals a glance at her and sees the same look of longing etched on her face.

“Would you like to go back?” he asks, his voice low.

He dreads what her answer might be. A part of him wants her to say no, wants her to stay even if he knows that he can’t keep her with him forever. Another part of him knows that it is selfish of him to restrain her, to tie her to him, to keep her in a jar like some specimen meant for his eyes alone – especially when he knows deep in his soul that she wants nothing more than to be back in the night sky with her brothers and sisters. She belongs to the stars, after all.

He had long accepted the fact that she might leave him someday but he doesn’t ever want to know what that entails for him.

He doesn’t want to know a future without her.

“Yes.”

***

It hurt – her answer hurt more than any physical pain he has ever experienced. It felt as if someone punched through his ribcage and out took his heart. And her presence at home only makes the heaviness in his chest even more unbearable.

So, to combat this, he tells her that he’d be sleeping over at a friend’s place for a couple of nights. He’d half-expected her to protest, to stop him from leaving, but all she said was _take care of yourself_.

And it sounded as if she was saying goodbye to him for good.

A week passes before he’d gathered enough courage to return home.

If she wants to leave, she can leave. _You’ll be alright, Jean._ _As you have always been._

He’d arrive home late and expected her to be out by the ocean, looking up at the galaxy, but was surprised to find her sitting on the bamboo stairs of their nipa hut.

Her face lights up for a fraction of a second when she sees him and something in his gut _twists_ and his heart clenches in his chest.

“You were waiting for me,” he’d said. She must have been terribly lonely without him.

She nods and takes his hand in hers and led him towards the ocean. Jean thinks that this is it – she’d say her goodbyes to him on the shore where she came crashing into his life all those months ago. But she leads him under a row of palm trees instead and he is surprised to find a blanket laid out underneath. She sits down and he follows suit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, _”_ she blurts out, her voice small and broken, as tears start to spill out her eyes.

His heart shatters at the sight and he pulls her toward him, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears, “You can leave if you want. I won’t stop you.”

She shakes her head, “I’m not going to leave. I want to stay here with you, Jean.”

He was prepared for the worst and her confession caught him off-guard. He blinks at her – once, twice, three times – before what she’d said finally sunk in and is heart _soared._  He can’t quite decide whether he wants to kiss her or he wants to marry her right then and there. So, he rests his forehead against hers and cries instead, tears of mirth spilling out his eyes.

A troubled expression passes over her features, “Are you not happy? Don’t you want me to leave?”

This time it is he who shakes his head, “No, never.”

“Then why are you crying?” she inquires, her hands bunching up the fabric of his shirt, her eyes searching his face. With this, he laughs. She must think of him a lunatic now.

He takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips, kissing her palm, “I’m so happy that I’m crying. I never wish to be parted with you again.”

_(Take my hand_  
_And gently close your eyes so you could understand  
_ _That there's no greater love tonight than what I've for you)_


End file.
